Jesus Never Gave Up On Me

Jesus Never Gave Up On Me

The prince was the end of Cinderella’s loneliness and despair. Prince Charming introduced Snow White to happily ever after.  I can’t think of a single fairy tale where the heroine ends up more alone than she was before.

But then, fairy tales don’t tell of pornography and eating disorders.

Life Tales

I slipped the ring on his finger and declared I would be with this one man more completely than I’d ever been with anyone before. It hardly fit the story line when my husband, whom I had been with under covenant for all of two months, deployed to Iraq for a year.

We never had a chance to learn to be together, to practice growing with and into oneness. Instead, we were catapulted into a dangerous scenario that led us each deeper into personal addictions.

Loneliness

For me, living alone exacerbated the lingering effects of an eight-year eating disorder. Selfishness crept in while he was away. Life seemed no different than two months before. My days were spent doing what I wanted. I worked as much as I wanted and spent as little time at home as I wanted. With no accountability, my meals dwindled and my runs got longer. Anorexia was a familiar friend and my method of coping with pain.

As a young, virile soldier, my husband was in a world that revived and encouraged an addiction he had sheltered for many years. Pornography ran rampant among the ranks of infantry soldiers separated from their wives for an unprecedented time.

In some ways, the deployment postponed a rude awakening to our troubles. Distance disguised our selfishness. While he was deployed, we wrote daily, each to our image of a perfect spouse. It was easy to say all the right things. When he came home, our mirage of happily ever after evaporated.

Regardless of individual issues, anorexia keeps all relationships at arm’s length. My heart screamed for my husband to love me, call me beautiful and scare away all my self-loathing. At the same time, my sharp hip bones, malnourished mood swings and amenorrhea told him I was unapproachable.

My husband chose to make his life with a two-dimensional “perfect” woman who gave him the sensation of intimacy without commitment or demand. He fell under her spell. She was there to fulfill his every desire and only his desires. She was with him when he wanted her, but needed nothing in return. Unconsciously, his body shut down all advances and responses to me sexually.

Addictions

Shame and defensiveness feed on addictions. My fear of food kept us from going on dates and sharing many special experiences. He steadily lost his ability to express emotion and tenderness. He lost countless hours to video games, comfortable with their one-sided gratification. We were mired in addictions, ways of coping that numbed our desire–no, our ability–to be together.

The night that I accidentally discovered the pornography on my husband’s computer, it savagely lacerated my heart. I felt the actual muscle of my heart clench and fall. And then I hated him.

I picked up book after book about sexual addiction and the effects of pornography. Christian and secular psychologists explained that when an individual becomes addicted to pornography, they lose the ability to connect with a living, breathing human being. They become unable to relate in every way, from conversation, to intercourse to recreation.

And so we sank.

Recovery

“With,” however, is embedded in human souls. It’s part of the mark of God on our beings. In God’s image, we crave companionship, relationship, and devotion. It’s no surprise that as God reached out to redeem His creation, He came as Immanuel, God with us. He didn’t throw out a lifeline, or send an ambassador. He came to be with us. And then, throughout Scripture, God calls Himself our Father, our husband, our friend.

God began with me, slowly wedging Himself between me and the eating disorder. The more God showed me the true joy of His presence, unobscured by anorexia, the more restless I grew in my marriage. Now that I had tasted relationship, I longed for it with my husband; but he was still unavailable. He was fully engaged in a non-relationship.

We can live without many things, but we cannot live without resonance between our lives and others.’ Like the Velveteen Rabbit, we do not feel alive as long as we remain untouched, un-with.

Kind people, godly people, told me, “You have to take care of yourself.”

“Can you really be happy this way?”

“Do you think he’ll ever change? And if not, do you want to live this way?”

My mind started to churn: Of course not. I shouldn’t have to live this way.

I sought God’s permission to walk away, but He didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear. In the Old Testament, the first and greatest commandment was, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength.’ And the second is like it, “Love your neighbor as yourself.’” (Mark 12:30-31)

But at the Last Supper, Jesus gave a new commandment: “So, now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other. Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples.” (John 13:34, 35)

Jesus is redeeming my marriage today, and God is daily teaching me to love as He first loved me. I scorned God’s love for almost 10 years while worshiping an idol of thinness and perfection, yet He never left me. As God’s follower, it is no longer about what I deserve or what is fair. It is how much of God’s love I can absorb and reflect. It is in loving beyond human limits that I prove I belong to Jesus.

Jesus won my heart by refusing to give up on me. He maintained His Immanuel presence even when I rejected Him.

It is in communion, “with-ness” with Jesus, that I take a deep breath and now remain with and in my marriage.

First published at: SheLovesMagazine.com, 12/29/12

Love Thy Body

Love Thy Body

It’s not just what is inside that counts. We tell ourselves that. We tell our children, so they won’t look too hard in the mirror. We don’t want them to judge their peers by skin color, size or shape.

“It’s only the inside that counts.” What we mean is that character is important. A good work ethic is priceless. Gentleness is admirable. Patience is Christ-like. But it’s not only what's inside that counts.

We tell ourselves and our children that the outside doesn’t matter. But it isn’t true. Tell that to the woman with breast cancer whose body is being eaten away by physical invaders. Tell that to the Indian man with leprosy whose skin is deteriorating. Tell the little blind boy that his eyes don’t matter, the cripple that his feet don’t matter, the burn victim that her skin doesn’t matter.

Bodies bear the mark of God. When God reached out to redeem His creation, He came as Immanuel, God with us. He came in flesh.  He came to look like us, touch, walk, hurt, heal, be like us.

A warm bosom was the first scent of earth-life to fill baby Jesus’ lungs. Mary’s body pushed, contracted and yielded to nature bringing a wrinkly, red baby into the world. Then soft breath, whispered words, gentle lips, trembling hands welcomed, caressed and tended. Life to life.

Dirty, leather-shod feet carried Jesus over the hills of Galilee, Nazareth and Samaria. Ugly, worn, blistered, they brought the healer to the broken, the leader to the lost, the Savior to the cross. As he washed and dried the feet of his own disciples the night of his arrest, did the Creator marvel at the familiarity of each heel and arch?

It is the body of Christ, bearing permanent scars that physically stepped into my place, took my death and rescued my life, even my body. Bodies matter. Intimate moments are constructed by and contained in bodies.

My first niece just turned one-year-old. She lives hundreds of miles away from me. Oh how I miss her. I miss her licorice-black, Precious Moment’s eyes framed with tiny lashes. I miss the softness of the top of her head. I love her face most when it’s smeared with beets or chocolate at breakfast. I love every inch of her oh-so wonderful body.

My mother’s shoulders are the most perfect shoulders in the world. They are broad enough for four daughters to rest their heads at once. Her shoulders slope gently into arms soft and strong; arms which hug me when I sob and hug me when I laugh. Her hands braided my hair when I was little and hold the phone now for hours when I just need to hear her voice.

Oh and those eyes! My daddy’s eyes sparkle with tears at the most elusive, sentimental moment. Those eyes chided me and praised me. The comfort of those eyes lulled me back to sleep after nightmares.

I know the tendency to discount bodies. For half my life, I hated mine. I whittled it smaller and smaller with starvation and long workouts. I measured my arms and legs with my fingers, furious if they grew larger than an arbitrary limit. How dare they strengthen, or fatten or grow or change. How dare they defy my control!

Slowly, Jesus has been persuading me of bodily value. These legs, bigger than they’ve been in years, bend criss-cross-applesauce and my puppy sleeps between my knees. These legs kneel to wrap Christmas presents, get on my niece’s eye-level and pray. These legs, which have long outgrown my fingers, carry me shopping with a friend, to volunteer at the homeless shelter, to walk to my neighbor’s home.

Recently, I found a news story and photo from 1995. It was titled, The Rescuing Hug.

“The article detailed the first week of life of a set of twins who were born 7 weeks early. Apparently each were in their respective incubators, one of them was doing better than the other and on day 4 after their birth, the weaker twin's vital signs were fading rapidly. The nurse in charge of the NICU that day had tried everything she could to save the weaker twin but nothing was working, she then decided to bring both twins together as a last resort. She fought against the hospital rules but finally placed both babies in the same incubator. When they were together, the stronger one of the two threw an arm over her sister in an endearing embrace. The weaker baby’s heart stabilized and her temperature rose to normal right away.” (article excerpted from InspiredDaybyDay.com)

Hands, feet, breasts, stomachs, legs, harshly judged too large, too small, too fat, too thin, are the means with which we express our Maker. Bodies are the means for rescuing life, comforting hearts, raising a child, being a lover.

Telling our children that what is inside is all that counts will not spare them from eating disorders. Believing that the outside is insignificant won’t prevent racism or prejudice. Believing that bodies have intrinsic, Christ-like value will instill in us and in our children the respect God intended for His creation.

What is inside does matter. It’s just not all that matters.

First published at Haven Journal, Dec. 2012

Where is the Peace on Earth?

Where is the Peace on Earth?

 I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
I thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
And in despair I bowed my head
'There is no peace on earth,' I said,
'For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.'
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
'God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men.'
Till ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
~ Wadsworth

I wonder if when Wadsworth penned those words, he expected to someday see peace on earth. Or was he speaking wistfully about some day hung in eternity, about as accessible as the stars? Certainly, no one even today, nearly 150 years later, would dare to say we have achieved peace on earth.

Here in America, we have come as close to peace as anyone. Most of us live safe, predictable lives. But even here we have domestic violence, natural disasters, political arguments, road rage, rivalry, and worse. Even at this season when we blissfully sing of peace, havoc reigns. Just last week: An inexplicable mass shooting at an elementary school - 27 people killed.

Why is this? What can we do? This morning on talk radio, commentators were asking, "What law do we need to prevent this kind of thing from happening?" The answer isn't in a Christmas carol. It isn't in Washington. The United Nations can't bring about world unity. However, Peace will come from authority. 

Think of it, what do you do when you feel anxious? If you're like me, you set out on a frantic course to determine the problem, find the solution and relax once more in your manufactured peace. The trouble is, in no time, you and I are in turmoil again.

Do you ever say something like, "Oh to be a kid again, no cares in the world." The reason kids have no cares is that they are happily submitted to the authority of their parents. Their peace comes from knowing that Mom and Dad will feed them, clothe them, tell them what to do and when to do it, answer their questions, calm their fears, kill the boogieman, dry their tears, tuck them in and teach them what they need to know. What would you give to have that kind of peace again?

This is what the LORD says--your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel: "I am the LORD your God, who teaches you what is best for you, who directs you in the way you should go. Is. 48:17

World peace, personal peace, eternal peace is found under authority. And therein is the main reason we miss it. The older we get the less we like the idea of taking orders from someone else. The older we get the more confident we become that we can take care of ourselves. But, what if there was someone worthy to exercise authority over us? And what if that someone was implicitly good and trustworthy?

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Is. 9:6

We have been given PEACE, peace incarnate. And yet, this peace is a prince; he has come to rule.

Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.
Col. 3:15

Do not think that you can experience His peace unless He has full authority over your heart.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Phil 4:6-7

The peace of Christ is for those who like little children with a benevolent parent, bring their troubles to Him, instead of insisting on their own solution.

You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you. Is. 26:3

The Prince of Peace gives peace to those who look to Him for truth and trust His answers.

First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way.
1 Timothy 2:1-2

And this Peace of Christ is for today, it is peace on earth (Luke 2:14). For even the peace that we desire in our homes, between our political parties, between our nations, is only experienced under the authority of Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace.

Originally published on Predatory-Lies.com on Dec. 19, 2012

A Child's View from the Other Side of the Angel Tree

A Child's View from the Other Side of the Angel Tree

Thousands of years ago, the advent of Jesus became the best Christmas present that will ever be gifted or received. More than four centuries believers had waited with baited breath for his advent, His coming.

Coming. There’s a warmth and anticipation in that word. Most of us are only familiar with the word advent at Christmas time. But, it’s the coming, the conclusion of longing, waiting, pining, hoping.

As a girl, Daddy’s advent every night was a special time. My sisters and I would wait at the end of our long, gravel driveway jockeying to be the first to spot his car. Then, as he turned toward the house, we would race alongside the car. “Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home! Daddy, I have something to show you!”

Also when I was a girl, my family did Angel Tree every year that I can remember. We would visit Wal-Mart and pluck a paper angel from the branches, usually a girl about our age. Then we scoured the brightly colored shelves for gifts that matched “our” little girl’s needs. When we  had packed the box to the brim, we took it to our church and stacked it among the hundreds of other shoeboxes filled by our friends’ families.

Back then, I didn’t think too much about the recipient of our gift. I didn’t really think about the gift that we couldn’t give them. The children of inmates who would open our Christmas presents might never celebrate their daddy’s advent. These children might wait night after night with no one coming home.

And I certainly didn’t have the capacity to wonder much about the incarcerated parents. They might never see the light in their children’s eyes as they opened Christmas presents, or feel the incomparable warmth of a child thrilled with their advent.

It’s been more than 20 years since I filled an Angel Tree shoebox with my sisters. My military husband and I have moved four times in our marriage and belonged to as many churches. But every single Christmas, my heart warms to see the Angel Tree in the foyer. My eyes water when the pastor announces the pending date for turning in our boxes.

I have been blessed with so many Advents. I have a wonderful father who came home to hug his daughters each night. I know the Savior whose Advent secured my eternity.

Angel Tree gives me the extended reach to love a child each Christmas and to show them the meaning of Christmas’ Advent. It gives me the opportunity to offer the anticipation of Christmas to a child missing their parent.

First posted at Faith Writers, Nov. 30, 2012

Broken Chains and Musical Altars

Broken Chains and Musical Altars

Some days it’s hard to remember that I bid anorexia goodbye. In those moments, I desperately need an altar to cling to.

In the Old Testament, altars were monuments, often erected as memorials to a theophany, or “God sighting.” In May 2000, the song “We Fall Down,” by Chris Tomlin, became my musical altar.

That month I had fought my college pastor tooth and nail. “I don’t have time to go to this Passion ‘One Day’ conference in Tennessee. I need to work, I need to study,” I told him.

I couldn’t admit that I was terrified of the bus ride, fast food restaurants and camping. And where was I going to do my morning workout?

Curiously, three days later, I found myself on a bus with 12 other hyper college students, driving from Oklahoma to Tennessee for the event.

I was in a bad place physically. Following two rounds of inpatient therapy, I had relapsed again, back to shaving calories, adding miles and skipping meals. I had no idea how I was going to survive this trip. However, I was long past denial of my eating disorder. Truthfully, I was scared of how far this dance with anorexia would take me. How long could I live like this?

Of that trip, I remember nothing, except for one song, the one night we camped at Shelby Farms, and one mysterious woman.

On this particular night, the organizers of the conference had arranged to call Botswana, Africa, to share our worship with them. As we began to sing “We Fall Down,” Christians on the other side of the world joined our chorus in their own language.

When people ask me today about my recovery from anorexia, the story is long. But there was that one night when I would declare: “God broke it.” That night, I found myself separated from my youth group, face down on the grass near a fallen tree, my heart wrenched with sorrow, exhaustion and hopelessness.

“God there’s nothing else I can do.” I cried out. “There’s nothing else that counselors can tell me or doctors can suggest. I’m dying and I can’t stop. God, God, please do something.”

I have no idea what she looks like, and I can’t remember her voice, but a woman came up behind me and wrapped her arms around me. I poured my despair into her shoulder.

When we got home, I didn’t look any different, but I know that my supernatural God had broken the chains on my heart. That one night I began a steady climb out of the mire of self-starvation, loneliness, and hopelessness.

A couple days ago, my husband uncovered a bunch of CD’s that had been lost in our last move; choosing one, I popped it into the player. Tracks melted into the air, slipping past my consciousness until track 10. In the live recording, Chris Tomlin announced, “We are going to call Botswana, Africa, and you’re going to hear them singing “We Fall Down” with us, in their own language.”

Hearing that song, my anxiety broke again. My eternal, Heavenly Father played the melody that recalled for me the day He broke my chains.

First published at Finding Balance, October 2012

Book Review: Unseduced and Unshaken

When I hear the word seduce, I think of a brazen vixen, oblivious to an innocent man’s wedding ring. With her long black lashes, polished lips and glistening skin she expertly maneuvers him away from all things chaste and moral. Unseduced, would be that man’s extraordinary willpower to resist such advances.

Rosalie De Rosset’s book, Unseduced and Unshaken, isn’t only about withstanding sexual temptation. The book is about that and so much more. Unseduced and Unshaken explains describes a postmodern culture as a seductress. De Rosset points out the predatory nature of advertising, pornography, peer pressure and other things that particularly young women must be wary to stand firm against.

De Rosset uses classic literature and well known movies to exemplify both desirable and unbecoming character traits. She enforces the need for dignity, modesty, self-confidence and strong, Biblical theology.

One of the most valuable aspects of the book is the extensive list of suggested reading in the appendix. De Rosset lists all of her sources and whets the reader’s appetite to know more about each one of them.

The book is easy to read and extremely well written, calling on a vast vocabulary. While the book is directly targeted at young women, De Rosset’s points apply to every Christian.

First Published on Amazon, 10/1/2012

Whatever It Takes

Whatever It Takes

How badly do you want to be thin? What would you trade? Would being thin make you ultimately happy – even if you don’t really believe that  - do you think that? Would life be easier, happier, more fun, (add an adjective) if you were thin?

A recent study revealed that many women would give up a year of of their lives to be thin.
Another study discovered that most women would give up sex to be thin.

In April, the New York Times, reported on a new, disgusting trend. Women, mostly brides, in a last ditch effort to be thinner (and therefore in their perception: more beautiful on their wedding day, make that special day happier, etc.) have resorted to feeding tubes.

At first, I was shocked. I remember being inpatient for my eating disorder. One of the sweetest little girls I have ever met, greeted me at the facility’s entrance. Alicia became a quick confidant and encourager for  me. But it was hard to look at her without crying. Alicia was 12, but she had stopped growing when she was about 5. Because of her refusal to eat and seeming determination to starve herself, Alicia wore a feeding tube. This disfiguring device looked just like it sounds. A long tube ran up her nose into her stomach. It was taped in various places down her little body until it attached to a pole, nearly twice her height, where hung a plastic bag of liquid nutrients. Everywhere little Alicia went – to counseling sessions, to watch TV, on pass into the the little town nearby, to bed, to worship – everywhere, her tube went along.

Now, imagine a grown woman, preparing for her wedding day, strapped up with a feeding tube. A little more visually appealing, these brides carry around a purse with their “food” bag instead of Alicia’s pole. Nonetheless, they have a rubber tube snaking up the side of their face, through their nose and into their stomach – to supply them with starvation’s subsistence – a mere 800 calories.How far have we fallen?

Here are some other facts for your consideration:

2/3 of dieters regain the weight they lost within about 4 years of any diet

About 44% of women admit to being on a diet at any given moment

And guess what! Despite all our paranoia, drastic measures, social mores, fitness obsessions, fad diets and self help books, political intervention and endorsement – despite all these things, recently an advocacy group reported that by 2030, more than half of the population in the majority of states will be considered obese. So, apparently, our strategy isn’t working.

Happily, there’s a small, underground minority that is working hard to reverse the trend. Have you heard of Intuitive Eating? Sounds interesting and logical, doesn’t it?

How about a new book, by Greg Archer, whose provocative title (albeit accurate) I’ll encourage you to check into yourself.

Another wonderful person whom I consider a champion of this movement toward reprioritizing our weight, our diet, our life goals, is Emily Wierenga.  It was a recent article on her blog, Chasing Silhouettes, that launched me onto my soapbox again.

Enjoy her words of wisdom:

No longer [should food be] an object to be feared. It is a necessity to be enjoyed and embraced.  It is another form of communication, another way of sharing in this thing called life, of relating with other humans through a means devoid of words. It is the breaking of bread, which Christ calls us to.

So, as you wisely set health goals, lace up your sneakers, breathe deep during a jog or slice your paring knife through the pale green skin on a tart, fresh apple, wonder : Why am I doing this?

And then do whatever it takes to honestly answer that question with:

So that I might, “present [my] bod[y] as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is [my] spiritual worship. [I will] not be conformed to this world,but be transformed by the renewal of [my]mind, that by testing [I] may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. Romans 12:1-2

First published at: Moms Who TRI Blog, Sept. 18, 2012

Awake and Feeling Sick

Awake and Feeling Sick

I’m a Bible study drop out. I’m sick to death of church. I feel more fake around my “Bible study girls” than anyone else in my life. Last year I was a small group leader. People tell me I should do women’s ministry. How can I, when I feel like corporate fellowship is shallow and contrived?

I’m sick to death of cute clothes and shiny flats. 

I’m sick to death of name tags and place cards and frilly coffee. 

I’m sick to death of perfect hair and matching purses and smart-looking workbooks. 

I’m sick to death of small talk and polite sharing. 

I’m sick to death of angled prayer request and sappy guitar songs. 

I’m sick to death of assigned greeters with coral colored lips and childcare volunteers and homemade cookies. 

I’m sick to death of everything that all church looks like. 

I am sick to death of making time for one more volunteer opportunity. 

I’m sick to death of being plied for my spare minutes, my spare change, my spare pens. I’m sick to death of bigger parking lots, potlucks, church gymnasiums and special VBS props. 

I’m sick to death of big screens and four services that say the same thing over and over and over and over...

Forever, I have believed conventional church had a place. Forever I have believed that fellowship with godly women is essential. For each of our military moves I have related my loneliness with not having found a “home” church. So where does this repulsion come from?

I am almost scaring myself. I had already signed up for a Beth Moore study. I had already started emailing with my BFF’s about which study we were taking, where we would sit and see each other, how busy our summers have been. I had already emailed the committee leader promising to be a bubbly, name tag slapping, coral lipped greeter. And then I quit. 

I just quit. 

And the first Tuesday, when I should have been in Bible study came and went. I noticed the time, 10 a.m. and realized that my BFF’s were probably searching up and down plush rows searching for me - me - the quitter. 

For one second, I imagined the twittering among rows. “You know, she’s been withdrawn this summer.”

“I wonder if she’s OK? I wonder if she and her husband are fighting?”

“Do think she’ll still be involved in ministry and growing? I’d hate to see her grow away from the Lord.”

“You know how important Bible study and fellowship is.”

For a split second, I worried that they would all pity me or tisk-tisk in disappointment. My cell phone erupted in bleeps and bings of texts, “Where are you?” 

Where was I? 

Shameful. 

I was standing beneath a broad shedding tree on a cracked sidewalk a mile from my home. The grinning puppy at my feet was ridiculously happy that had chosen a walk with him over the more “perfect” option. The edges of fall lapped at my goosebumps. It was 50 degrees when I woke up. I had brewed a slow cup of coffee, opened my windows, plugged in Pandora radio and sat at the feet of Jesus for an hour and half. I hadn’t gotten ready - in fact, I hadn’t even showered by the time Bible study was letting out. 

That wasn’t my first rebellious act - the first sign of my awakening. My husband and I skipped church two weeks in a row recently. Instead, we opted for a slow morning curled next to each other with cups of banana nut coffee. Late, we watched a sermon online. 

We went back one week later. I was afraid, certain that I had probably missed something life changing while I was playing hooky. People must have been whispering that our seats were empty. Or were they?

Surely, I should feel rotten about missing worship. Then why did I feel like my quiet worship at home had been so much more real and fulfilling?

Later that afternoon, after I had skipped Tuesday morning Bible study, I started getting emails from sweet girlfriends. I don’t mean to imply that they are fake, but I think they are duped. I think most of the conventional American church has drunk the Kool-aid. I think my stupor is suddenly wearing off. I’m waking up, and that’s terrifying when everyone who validated my religious life is still content in slumber. 

“Abby, Bible study is right up your alley! You of all people can make time for this. I know you’re spending time with Jesus, but quiet time is with God. Fellowship is with others.”

Really? Is Jesus not enough real, tangible enough for me to fellowship with him? And I am sick to death of making time for things. If there’s not enough time in the 24 hours of my God-given day, do I have the right to try to make time for other things on my personal agenda - the agenda I think God should have?

I’m sick to death of begging, “God what is it you would have me do? What is my calling?” And then charging off on my righteous steed to analyze headlines, and argue about conservative politics and seek out my next opportunity to “be there for someone.” As if my calling, my purpose were so incredibly unique that if I miss it the world is doomed.

The going notion is that Christians must determine what God has called them to do. How can we serve the Lord? How can we minister? Who needs us?

Here’s the rub: The driving force behind each of those questions is pride. Yep, that ugly invader of Paradise is alive and well and thinly disguised behind our masks of ministry. 

What if we quit isolating others’ needs and targeting our resources to help those “less fortunate”? What if we quit pointing out where we can be of assistance and creating repeatable, efficient programs to meet them? What if need doesn’t want to be met with charity? What if we met need with need and then humbly shared from the place of need? 

Remember the widow and her two mites? The poor, marginalized woman gave out of her nothing, gave what she had without show or pledge card. And after, Jesus didn’t run out and give her coin. Jesus didn’t instruct his disciples to buy her a meal or cover her with their cloak or take her into their home. 

Did you ever notice that Jesus didn’t establish a program or system for preaching? Jesus didn’t seek out the hungry, lame, blind, leper or dying. Jesus didn’t set up a podium, send out fliers or provide transportation. Jesus went to the people and sent out his disciples, plain, poor, ordinary men and women. He never called people to him. He never announced a special message or a seeker sensitive service. 

I feel like I have woken up to a screaming alarm clock. It’s the kind of startled wakening when you don’t really remember where you are. I have been jarred awake and I’m hungry. I’m starving for something real, something new. 

I want to be with real people. Real people who KNOW they are hungry. I want to touch and be touched. I want to bleed and be bled on. I want to break crusty bread and sit on the floor. I want to hear whatever someone has to say, not ask them prescribed questions that relate to eternity. I want to be needed and I want to be fully free to need. I want to do relationship. 

And I think that’s how the church in America was sung to sleep. She heard the same consoling music over and over. She dined on lush foods and never bit into something so bitter it made her sick, purged her heart and made her hungrier than ever before. 

She moaned about scratches and discomforts. She has never had to walk on raw, blistered feet. She has never known pain that prevents sleep. Maybe that’s another privilege of pain. We bleed to know that we’re alive. 

First Published at Predatory Lies, Sept. 14, 2012

It's A Small World After All

It's A Small World After All

As a kid growing up in Oklahoma, my primary diet was dust. So, it was remarkably refreshing after an evening softball game, or an afternoon spent mowing the lawn, to pour a glass of cold water. In nearly any room of the house, my sisters and I could turn a shiny silver knob and and lavishly splash cool, clean water over our faces, arms and neck. Then, reaching for a brightly colored cup, without a second thought, we gulped the life-giving liquid. 

Nearly every summer, on the evening news, I remember hearing about a seasonal water shortage. Neighbors began to take turns watering their lawns. Daddy didn’t wash the cars. But never for one second did I fear that we would run out of clean drinking water. 

This year has been record setting in Oklahoma. In August, the temperature soared to 113 degrees. More than 30% of the state is experiencing an exceptional drought. But, in my family’s garage there are still cases of clean water. Every evening we take long showers. Here in rural Oklahoma, I have never known anyone dying for water. 

In 2008, a non-profit foundation called Water4 , was founded in Oklahoma City by Dick and Terri Greenly, to address the global water crisis. A water crisis that most of us in North America have never even considered. We certainly don’t worry about dying children every time we enjoy a cool glass of ice water. 

Water4 exists primarily provide water to impoverished, thirsty areas. At the same time, Water4 educates and trains nationals to be intricately involved in the effort to provide sustainable, clean water sources to their villages. Already working tirelessly in Haiti, Sierra Leone, Uganda and Rwanda, Water4’s goal is to provide clean drinking water to a million people by 2014.  

Statistically, the majority of Oklahomans are pro-life. Consequently, voters are well aware that about 3,322 children are aborted everyday. However, few people know that 4,320 children die everyday due to a water-related illness. 

Many states across America are withering with drought this summer. Farmers are fearful for their crops and consequently, their livelihood. The entire globe is feeling the economic pinch. But when we feel the parched tongues of children in third-world countries, when we see the countless tiny graves of thirsty children - we have to be grateful for our relative abundance and wonder...

What can we do?

While the cost to build a private well in Oklahoma is upwards of $2000, you can donate a well and supply water to an entire village through Water4’s program for $900. You’ll never turn that shiny silver knob mindlessly again, and neither will your children.

Originally posted at FaithWriters.com on August 29,2012

SPIN - it's more than a workout

SPIN – it’s more than a workout

If I say SPIN, what do you think of?

If you’re reading this in the framework of fitness, you probably just imagined a room full of low-profile bikes. Dozens of sweaty people are pedaling as fast as they can and getting absolutely nowhere! But they’re loving it. Someone is at the front of the pack screaming directions over the crush of loud, motivating music.

And you’d be right, that’s definitely SPIN.

Or you might think of the bajillion proverbial plates you have in the air. Somehow, in a superhuman feat you manage to keep your life precariously balanced and a serving of every friend and family member’s happiness whirling at all times. Good for you! Right? Is that good?

In light of a greater fitness – your soul’s fitness and your mental health, I want to propose another definition of SPIN. I recently heard an interview with a couple, the authors of a new book, From Hectic to Healthy. As time marches on and we are entering into the unrelenting demands of a new school year, I think this is appropriate.

Seasons: We often refer to our lives in seasons. There’s the season of singleness, newly wed, parent, mid-life (crisis), retirement, elderly, etc. Cognitively, we’re OK with that, except for always wishing we were younger. But do we live happily in the season God has given us? The authors of this book suggest that we begin to feel overwhelmed when we try to live outside our season.

If you’re struggling to find time to fit in your workouts, or any other important aspect of your life, ask yourself if you are trying to
do this thing in light of your current season. Be reasonable, give yourself some grace. Challenge yourself, yes, but remember
there is season for everything and the time for all your dreams and goals will arrive in God’s timing.

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven,” Ecc. 3:1.

Priorities: set your priorities according to your season. By the way, your health is YOUR responsibility and it’s important to your family too! So don’t put that at the bottom of the list. God has been persistently reminding me lately that REST is a key component of health!

Isolation: You probably feel like isolation is something you would pay to have! Many women are in the season of kiddos and chaos; happy family times, but tiring nonetheless. Or you may be feeling isolated from adult companions.  Spinning your life faster to include more things isn’t the answer! Find one thing, start with just one, from the bottom of your priority list and draw a big black line through it! Now, go join a Moms Who TRI bootcamp – get your friendship and fitness in one, enjoyable hour!

Neglect: This is MOMS Who TRI, and the only things moms frequently neglect is themselves. That’s what Moms Who TRI is all about. It is an environment for busy moms to prioritize their health, spend time with their children and enjoy fellowship with other women.

SPIN – This fall, ditch that feeling of spinning your wheels and getting nowhere. Discover and fully live in your SEASON. PRIORITIZE and let something go! Don’t ISOLATE yourself, or maybe you need to eliminate something so that you can hide away by yourself and refresh for just a moment. Don’t NEGLECT your health behind the guise of being too busy to workout. You are important, too!

Posted at Moms Who TRI blog, August 21, 2012

Hard-Core Honor

Hard-Core Honor

Marriage is made of promises, from the inaugural seconds of the union between a man and woman.

I, Sinner 1, promise to be true to you, Sinner 2, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”

I took some liberties with the vows, but they are nonetheless true of anyone who has ever taken the marriage vow.

Typically, the honeymoon follows where it’s relatively easy to keep those promises. Just two weeks ago, I returned from my little sister’s wedding. She and her husband have been dating for more than seven years. They have kept and broken promises to each other. They have forgiven and overcome bitterness. But as she and I sat on the floor in her living room, just days before she was to take those vows, this sinner felt an urgent need to share with her what I am finding to be the secret to promise keeping.

The secret is one five-letter word hidden in the middle of the marriage vows. Honor. According to Dictionary.com, honor means: honesty, fairness, or integrity in one’s beliefs and actions. Despite the culture’s clamor for equality, showing honor requires nothing of the sort. My vow to honor my husband is binding on me even if he breaks his vow.

This is a hard pill to swallow and one that many Christians contend. But I offer you two Biblical precedents.

First Samuel 25, tells the story of Abigail. Abigail was married to Nabal, a man the Scripture describes as, “crude, mean, wicked and ill-tempered.” Ultimately, Nabal’s stingy and unjust behavior cost him his life. However, Abigail behaved honorably toward both her husband and those he had offended. We don’t know anything about the earlier years of their marriage, but it’s doubtful that Nabal had ever treated her with honor.

Hosea is the sad story of one man’s marriage to an unfaithful woman. Hosea obeyed the Lord and married a woman who was never faithful to him. In fact, on more than one occasion, God sent Hosea to redeem Gomer from the trouble her promiscuity had gotten her into.

And the Lord said to me, ‘Go again, love a woman who is loved by another man and is an adulteress, even as the Lord loves the children of Israel, though they turn to other gods and love cakes of raisins” (Hosea 3:1).

These stories tell of the obedient lives of two people who loved God and kept their vows to honor their mates, even when they were not treated with honor. But the verse in Hosea introduces the greatest story of love in the face of dishonor.

God loves us even when we are disobedient. “…but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8

Whether you are preparing to take your marriage vows, or took them years ago, maintain your obedience to Christ.

Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God” (Ephesians 5:1-2).

We understand that we will face dishonor and unfairness in life, but we generally believe that our spouse should be exception; Our husband or wife should be one person who always honors us, brings us joy, and makes us happy. But when two sinners wed, that can never be the case. A Bible study teacher once stopped me in my tracks with her comment,

God gave you a spouse to make you holy, not to make you happy.”

Published at Start Marriage Right, July 10, 2012

Give It To God

Give It To God

How many times has some well-meaning Christian friend or advisor told you that?

You can’t control it, so just let it go. Trust God. He’ll handle it.

Does that rankle your nerves as it does mine? I hate being told that, and I hate hearing that seeming cliche come out of my mouth to another believer.

It’s a common response to a painful situation that we don’t know what to do with. When someone we know is forging through the aftermath of a senseless loss, trying to survive a betrayal or struggling to overcome a recurring sin, we often don’t know what to suggest. That’s because we are as fallible as they are. We are as fragile as they are. Even if we have crossed that particular bridge before, replaying our story and offering our solution often comes out with an air of superiority or false empathy.

Recently, I sat across the table from a gentle mentor who said no such thing. In fact, I am amazed that she sat with me for nearly two hours, listened intently  to my pain, watched my public display of agony and never once said, “Oh, I’ve been there too. I know exactly how you feel.” It was after those soothing hours of verbally releasing my hurt that I told my journal, “I think I finally know what it feels like to ‘give it to God.’”

 It’s like flipping the latch on my own cage. I had been chained to stare at my pain. Like a canary in a tiny cage, able only to watch the cat threaten and mock him. All along, the vulnerable little bird had the power to flip the latch and not only avoid the anguish of mediating upon his impending doom, but to fly away to safety. When he discovered that latch and flipped the lever, the pain didn’t go away. In fact, the pain could now leap with even greater possibility at his feet. But also, he now had the indisputable power to fly higher and farther away than the pain could ever reach.

Published on Predatory Lies, July 2012

Interview With Judy Rossi, Author of Enhancing Your Marriage

Interview With Judy Rossi, Author of Enhancing Your Marriage

It’s a rare treat to take a Bible study under the tutelage of the author. I was afforded such a treat this spring in a women’s study called, Enhancing Your Marriage, by Judy Rossi. I experienced and observed the resurrection of marriages. When the study was over, Judy agreed to an interview so that I can share just a glimpse of the wealth I learned.

Abby Kelly: If you could choose one truth to impart to your own daughter, on the night before her wedding—what would it be?

Judy Rossi: “It would be this: Don’t let the stuff of marriage change how you accept, respect and appreciate your man as a man now. Continue to be thankful for his God-given, hormone-influenced/driven differences and traits, to see him as your balance not as your opposite.”

What are some early “symptoms” that a couple is in trouble?

I think one of the earliest and most telling symptoms is dishonesty—hiding who we really are and what we really need from our spouses. Not being honest with our mate about ourselves, an issue, an offense, or a concern sets us up for disillusionment about our mates because they didn’t meet our preconceived expectations. Men are not mind readers. Therefore, unaddressed and unresolved problem areas build. They close our spirits and harden our hearts toward our spouse.

Truth without grace is cruel. Grace without truth is license. Jesus always had both in operation. A great reminder: the tougher the message, the gentler the delivery.”

Is there a “vaccination” against some of the most common marital troubles?

Naturally I believe that we must first have a relationship with Jesus Christ. That said, God can work wonders in a marriage even if our spouse hasn’t yet come to Christ. Second, as stated earlier, understanding that God designed the institution of marriage to reflect our relationship with the heavenly Bridegroom (Ephesians 5:22-33), our marriages will become God’s workshop—the place where He will make us more like Jesus. The good, the bad and the downright ugly will typically show themselves within the marriage relationship. And God will meet us there. He will use the best and the worst circumstances of our marriages to mature us spiritually (Romans 8:28-29). He will not waste anything that could turn us from self-centered to Christ-centered.”

What does it mean to leave one’s family?

That Adam and Eve had no human mother and father to leave is profound. Their primary relationship was to be with God first, who commanded them to make each other their primary earthly relationship. It’s no different today.

But “leaving” is only one third of God’s command for the married couple. If one won’t leave, then there is no cleaving. And if there’s no cleaving, then there is no becoming one. The commitment to the relationship is incomplete unless each spouse chooses to leave former relationships, clings to the other and becomes one. That’s where the protection lies.”

What if we had sex before we got married? Are we doomed to suffer for it in our marriage?

If I may speak personally here, guilt from premarital sexual sin affected me for years. It was hidden in the depths of my soul, and I knew I wouldn’t be free to truly enjoy my husband sexually until I permitted God’s forgiveness to pour all over me, cleanse me, wash my past away and make me “holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation” (Colossians 1:22, NIV). Slowly afterward I began to see the sexual “us” in a totally different light—God’s light—beautifully intentional, holy and free to enjoy.”

Are there times when counseling is necessary? Can’t we just fix it on our own?

Sometimes we just get “stuck”—stuck in our thought life, stuck in our attitudes, stuck in our emotions, and stuck in our behaviors. We might even be contemplating the “D”-word, because we truly don’t know how to tackle the problems in our marriage. And some may have a spouse unwilling to tackle the problems in their marriage. That’s when we can use a biblically-grounded mentor or a biblical counselor who can show us how to respond to our circumstances and/or to our spouse in a way that honors God and effectively addresses the issues.”

Is it ever hopeless? Is there ever an offense worthy of leaving and walking away from the marriage?

Today’s culture would declare that any prolonged unhappiness constitutes a walkable offense. But God wouldn’t agree. And even though Jesus states adultery as the only walkable offense, He doesn’t even make that a mandate. He knows how God can work in the hearts and minds of each couple, to bring them to forgiveness, reconciliation, and restoration—the very message of the Cross.

Logically and biblically speaking, we don’t serve a God of hopelessness; therefore, nothing is hopeless. However, that doesn’t mean that sometimes we may not feel as if things are hopeless. This is a time when we need to reground our perspective—not about marriage, but about God. Because He is sovereign, I believe that nothing happens to me that doesn’t pass before Him first.”

How can we build intimacy if one spouse is deployed or for some other reason we are geographically separated?

Honestly, you’re either building intimacy or tearing it down every day. I would say that the  most effective way to hold a husband fast to us during separation is to respect him as a man, as a husband, as a lover, leader, protector and provider. When he knows that he’s appreciated for all that he does, when he doesn’t feel like “just a paycheck”, his heart is sold out to the one who appreciates him. And God wants that one to be his wife!”

Published at Start Marriage Right in June 2012